Love Finds You in Last Chance, California (19 page)

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Authors: Miralee Ferrell

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BOOK: Love Finds You in Last Chance, California
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“Nice shooting.”

“Thanks.” Justin handed her the reins and walked up the boulder-strewn hillside, keeping his rifle extended and trained on the still form. He leaned over the cat, nudging it with the toe of his boot. “Dead center. Heart shot. I doubt he knew what hit him.”

Alex nodded. “It’s a shame to kill something so magnificent. But once these cats get old and can’t hunt deer or rabbits, the horses become fair game.”

Justin stepped down onto level ground and grasped his stallion’s reins. Alex moved Banner forward, genuinely thankful the man was good with a rifle
and
with the stock. Still, she forced down a twinge of irritation that he’d gotten his shot off before she had. One thing she prided herself on was her ability with a rifle, and he’d topped her.

She clucked to her gelding and moved past the spot where the big cat lay. No sense in feeling jealous of someone else’s ability—that was childish. Besides, as the new boss of the Circle T, she’d best count her blessings that God saw fit to bring her a skilled wrangler who’d take orders from a woman.

Alex shifted her weight in her saddle and turned toward Justin. “We need to hunt for those missing horses again. I can’t afford to keep losing stock. I’ll want you and Frank to try tracking them again and let me know what you come up with.”

Justin gave a silent nod and patted his stallion’s neck. “Good plan. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning. There won’t be enough light to head out again after we get back to the ranch.”

“Thanks.” Alex swung back around. The mortgage against the ranch felt like a lead weight on her mind, pulling her into a dark place where she didn’t care to venture. Martha was right. She needed to trust God and give this mess to Him, but the loss of valuable breeding stock made it hard. Her mind drifted back to Carter’s offers of marriage and financial security, but the thought only lasted a moment. No. She’d make it on her own, whatever it took.

Alex laid her ledger aside and pushed to her feet. “Martha, did you need any help before I check on the mare we brought in today?”

Martha’s voice floated out from the kitchen. “I’m fine. Just setting the sourdough for flapjacks tomorrow. It looks like there’s still enough light. I surely do love these longer days.”

“It’s only July—still plenty of time before winter sets in.” A quick peek out a window showed the sun dipping toward the horizon, but enough light remained to get a good look at the mare. Alex headed outside and across the cleared space between the house and the barn. A horse snorted in the nearby corral, and the sound of pounding hoofs retreated from the rail fence.

An indistinguishable figure moved on the far side of the enclosure, and Alex pulled up short. Frank often checked the stock at night and must have had the same idea. “Hey, Frank, you headed for the bunkhouse?”

“It’s Justin. Thought I’d check on the mare.” His tall figure emerged from the shadows and into the softening light.

Alex rested her arms on the top bar of the corral. “How’s her leg look?”

“I just turned her loose. Still a bit of heat in the fetlock joint, but it doesn’t appear any worse for the trip home. Her milk bag is pretty swollen since she hasn’t been able to nurse.”

“She’ll be uncomfortable for a while. We don’t have any orphan foals right now, so we’ll need to keep a close watch.” Alex shifted her weight on the fence and turned to face him. “Is Toby asleep?”

“Yeah. He’s pretty excited about the promise of a horse ride, so it took a little longer than usual.” Justin’s smile relaxed his face.

“He’s a sweet little boy—you’re blessed to have him.”

Justin leaned a shoulder against the nearby post, giving her a shy smile. “Thanks. I think so.”

Silence settled over the area, with only an occasional stamp of a horse disturbing the evening. Justin glanced up, and his deep brown eyes caught her staring. She felt a slow blush creep up her neck and dragged her eyes away from his, grateful for the lowering dusk. “Um, I wanted to thank you for your help with the mare and foal today.”

He met her eyes again. “Glad I could help.” They were silent for a few more moments until Justin surprised her by speaking again. “You get lonely this far from town?”

“I didn’t, until Papa died. But Martha and Uncle Joe mean the world to me, and I’m grateful they’re here. The ranch has been my life—all I’ve cared about since I was little, when I put on my first pair of britches and rode on my first roundup.” She dropped her gaze and ran her hand down the side of her trousers.

His chuckle brought her head up, and his grin caused the dimple in his cheek to appear. “You must’ve caused some tongues to wag, wearing boy’s britches and riding on a roundup. I’ll bet you were a handful for your mama.”

She matched his grin and nodded. “I can’t tell you how many times I overheard her scolding Papa. She wanted me raised a lady, but since Papa didn’t have a boy, he taught me to ride like one.”

“I’ll bet you were a cute little girl.” His dry laugh filled the air. “So you just kept on all these years. Does it ever cause you a problem with the other women?”

She shrugged and tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Sometimes. I’ve gotten used to it, though. There are a few women in town that don’t agree with my choices. I steer clear of them whenever I can.”

“Too bad.” He straightened. “Running a ranch from horseback while wearing a dress seems like a tall order to me.” A smile creased his face. “But then again, I’ve never tried it.”

Alex threw back her head and laughed, the thought tickling her funny bone. When she glanced up again, the laughter died on her lips. Why was Justin looking at her that way?

“Guess I’d best get back and check on Toby.” Justin pushed away from the fence and tipped his head. “Good night.”

She raised her hand and slowly let it fall as he strode away. “Good night.”

His long legs took him away from the corral in a matter of seconds, and before long the sound of the front door opening and closing met Alex’s ears. She lifted her gaze to the moon peeking through the parting clouds. The thunderheads were breaking up and drifting apart. There would be no lightning strikes tonight—at least not in the sky.

Chapter Seventeen

Alex swung open the door of the dry goods store and heard the bell’s gentle tinkle. She stood for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the harsh light filtering through the front windows. She wiped her hand across her brow. Summer heat had come with a vengeance these pasts few days.

Elizabeth’s head lifted and she smiled over the shoulder of the woman standing in front of her counter. “Alex! It’s good to see you. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Elizabeth. Take your time.” She stopped to examine a rack of leather gloves on a shelf near the front, lifted a pair to her nose, and drew in a breath.
Mmm.
New leather had its own special fragrance, one she’d come to love over the years.

The clink of coins hitting the drawer of the cash register drew her attention back to the front. She’d never seen this woman before. Possibly a miner’s wife up from Auburn? Doubtful; her taste in clothes wasn’t something most miners’ wives would choose. A deep green dress of fine cotton hugged her trim form, showing off the curves of a youthful figure. Ruffles at the throat and wrist lent a feminine touch; red curls pulled back from sparkling eyes and a pretty face completed an attractive picture.

Elizabeth waved Alex forward, and the stranger turned her way. “Alex, meet Christy Grey. We don’t have many young, single women in our town. Christy, this is my best friend, Alexia Travers. She owns the Circle T ranch a few miles from town. Maybe she can answer your question.”

Alex extended her hand and found it met by a firm grip. Clear brown eyes met hers, and a tentative smile curved the red lips. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Travers.”

“Please, call me Alex.” She grinned at the raised eyebrows and curious look. “My father wanted a boy and tried to hide his disappointment by naming me Alex. I’ll answer to Alexia, but I’m partial to Alex.”

“And I’m Christy.” The redheaded girl tipped her head and her smile grew.

“You had a question?”

“Yes. I’m looking for someone, and I understand he may be in town. Justin Phillips. He has a little boy named Toby. Miss Anders thinks you’ve met him.”

Alex’s heart jolted. Could this be the boy’s mother? No—Justin said she’d died. A sweetheart? She shook herself. It wasn’t her business. “Yes. I hired him at my ranch. We lost a couple of wranglers and I’ve been shorthanded.”

“Toby’s with him?” Christy gripped the narrow rail lining the front of the tall wooden counter.

“He is. Are you a friend?” Alex hated to pry but couldn’t seem to bite back the question.

Christy shrugged and gave a small smile. “Something like that.”

A chill brushed Alex’s skin. The woman standing in front of her seemed self-possessed and certain of her standing with Justin—and she was beautiful enough to turn any man’s head. Finally, Alex lifted her chin and smiled. “You’re welcome to come visit any time.”

A subtle change passed over Christy’s face—a brief flash of wonder, with a cold mask settling in its place. “Thank you. But I see you haven’t heard about me yet. Once you know, you’ll retract the invitation.” Her chin lifted with a hint of rebellion.

Alex frowned. “I don’t offer hospitality lightly.”

Just then, the bell on the door tinkled and two middle-aged ladies stepped inside, their laughter and chatter filling the space at the front of the store.

Elizabeth stepped around the counter and smiled. “Mabel, Clara, how may I help you?”

Mabel Gurney glanced at Christy Grey and nudged her shorter friend. “There she is, Clara,” she whispered in a too-loud voice. “Told you they’d hired another one over to the saloon, didn’t I?”

Clara crossed her arms over her ample bosom and stared at Christy. “Humph. Indeed you did.” She gripped Mabel’s arm and drew her in a wide circle around Christy and Alex. “Come on, dear, let’s go to the back of the store so these
ladies
can have some privacy.” She glanced from Christy to Alex and back again then snickered and drew her companion down the nearby aisle.

Alex felt the blood rise in her face and started to reply, but Elizabeth reached across the counter, placed a hand on her friend’s arm, and squeezed.

Christy drew herself up and squared her shoulders. “See?” She spoke softly, addressing Alex. “You didn’t realize you were inviting a dance hall girl to your home. Want to take it back now?”

Alex stood for a moment without speaking, gazing at the young woman holding herself so rigidly against the nearby counter. The hard look on her face spoke of deep pain—pain that Alex knew too well from her own past, caused by repeated rejection and criticism. “No, I don’t. You’re still welcome. What you do for a living is no concern of mine.” She saw Elizabeth cast her a quick glance and wondered what her friend might be thinking. Understanding and support would be nice, but she wouldn’t back down on her stance, regardless.

Christy dropped her head, and Alex saw the muscles in her neck jerk as she swallowed hard. “Thank you. I’d hate to tarnish your reputation.”

“Believe me, Miss Grey—having you come by the ranch couldn’t possibly tarnish my reputation any further.” She gave the girl a grim smile. “As you can see, there’s more than one woman in this town who doesn’t care for
me
. If you decide to come, it’s fine by me.”

Christy nodded and picked up the small bundle lying on the counter. “Good day, ladies. I’m glad to have made your acquaintance.” Without waiting for a reply, she walked briskly to the door and slipped out.

Elizabeth stood silent for a moment, and Alex waited for a scolding. Finally, Elizabeth slipped around the counter and wrapped her arm around Alex’s waist. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove, but I admire you for offering.” She spoke in a low voice and her gaze shot to where Mabel and Clara were laughing in a far corner of the store.

“I’m not trying to prove anything. She wants to see my new wrangler and I invited her to the ranch.” Alex shrugged. “I can’t see that it’s anything to boast about.”

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